Hypocrisy

A personal essay meant to help me heal.

I never grew up thinking I would become a teacher.  I always felt I would do something big or meaningful but educating the youth was not what I had in mind.  Then at 25, newly married with a pointless Sociology degree I decided to go into education.  My bestie was a teacher.  She and others always told me I would be great at it.  I didn’t share the same sentiment but needed a career.  The education was free, and I could do it in my hometown which meant not moving cities, so I applied.

I got in with no problem.  Of course, I did. Everything came easily to me.  My first year started with a ‘camp’ at an actual camp about 30 minutes from town. This should have been a big red flag for me. With my whole being, I did not want to go to this.  I did not enjoy being around people I didn’t know and was expected to sleep in a cabin with a bunch of other women.  I made up some bullshit excuse about why I couldn’t stay.  It was complete bullshit because now, 20 years later, I can’t even remember what it was.

Even though I wasn’t sleeping at the camp, I still had to go.  The weather was gross.  It drizzled the entire time; not even full-fledged rain drops but like the skies were spritzing us with water bottles and never stopped.  Everything was soaked.  We sat in a hall and listened to the elders.  This part was okay. I wasn’t sure of the point of it, but some of the stories were enjoyable.  We made cattail dolls.  We played campfire games.  And the rain continued to fall from the dismal sky.  I felt like the weekend would never end.

But it did and my classes began that Monday.  I had made a pledge to myself to try in my classes this time.  I was smart and wanted to see how well I could do when I applied myself, not just do what I had to in order to pass.  This was how high school and my first go-round at university were.  My studies were not my priority then, it was all about having a good time.  But this was going to be different.  I had a purpose �" to finish my degree and start an actual career, become what an adult was supposed to be, so why not put my whole being into it and see what I could really accomplish?

The classes were easy, and my marks were never below 90%.  Of course, they were, everything came easily to me, remember?  Although looking back now, I am not sure my marks were because of my exceptional intelligence or because of the low expectations from the professors.  Regardless, I made the Dean’s list and was pretty proud of myself.

However, something never sat right with me through it all.  My classmates were all forming relationships with the professors; I could have cared less.  I had never been an a*s-kisser and was not about to start.  In fact, I was almost the complete opposite �" I would question my profs whenever I had the chance or try to prove them wrong.  I was either disruptive in class or spent my time doodling instead of listening.  I was the kind of student that drives a teacher nuts �" all the potential in the world and no desire to fit in the box.

This is how it had been since my teen years.  I always wanted to rebel �" against my parents, my teachers, the school, the rules, the ‘man’ �" test my limits.  What could I get away with and not get into too much trouble? What could I do to not be considered typical? I never wanted to end up in jail, but the idea of getting away with breaking the rules and opposing authority was so damn appealing.  On the outside people saw the perfect girl, but it didn’t feel like that on the inside to me.  They never knew the unorthodox thoughts and plans that developed beneath the surface.

And it was this, that made me question becoming a teacher.  I didn’t like following rules and that was what education was all about.  If I became a teacher, I would also become a hypocrite to my own self.  I was never a good student and was now going to run a classroom where this would be my expectation of the children that filled it.  This didn’t sit well with me.

However, like many of you, the expectations of society outweighed my own emotions.  I needed a career because that was what a grown-up married person did.  They went to work to provide for their family.  I could set my feelings aside and become a teacher, couldn’t I?

Well, I did for 15 years.   It never felt natural.  I never felt confident that I actually knew what I was doing in the classroom, but I didn’t let it show.  For 15 years, I worked at a job that went against every fibre of my true self.  I would tell myself I was making a difference.  I would try to just have fun.  I told myself I was still getting a chance to be creative.  I would write something just to show off to my students.  I would spend more time talking to my students than teaching.  I would re-type assignments just because I liked creating them.  I went to countless professional development sessions because it got me out of the classroom.  I started following the rules (I even became an administrator to get out of the classroom, but then realized I had to enforce the rules!).  I made myself believe that I was a good teacher and that it was meant to be.  I made myself believe that one day I would have time for my real passion �" writing.  I successfully fooled myself for 15 years.

Then my charade came crashing down completely.  I broke down from the weight of this hypocrisy.  The universe yelled at me instead of sending the subtle clues it had been for years �" not being able to get out of bed, putting off marking assignments or completing report cards until the absolute last minute, starting read-alouds or watching pointless videos because I hadn’t prepared anything to teach, gaining 100 pounds, calling in sick because I just couldn’t do it that day.  I broke down in my principal’s office after an incident with a parent where I wasn’t allowed to speak my true feelings.  I was done!

I spent two days where my heart raced and I couldn’t breathe every time I thought about anything having to do with school.  Tears flowed out of me uncontrollably. The feelings of guilt and anxiety were too much for me to bear.  Like most middle-aged mothers, I didn’t want to let people down or admit that I had taken on more than I could handle.  I was nervous about people finally knowing my truth �" I didn’t enjoy being a teacher and it wasn’t how I wanted to spend the rest of my working years.

Am I sad?  I’ll be honest, I grieved this decision to end my teaching career. There are things that I will miss about being in education but there is more that I will not.  I am anxious about what the future holds and where the money will come from.  But more than anything, I am tired of being a hypocrite.  I tried to teach my students to be honest with themselves and others, yet I spent years lying to myself.  Follow your dreams, the sky’s the limit, you can be anything �" I think about all the motivational posters that would stare me down from my classroom walls while I just settled for what was expected of me.  I will no longer try to be something I am not.  I will not lie to myself anymore and this is liberating.  I need to become what I always thought I would be �" an author.